Chapter 1

one

. . .

Jemma

" A re you fucking kidding me, Jemma?" my sister shouts as she storms across my grandmother's farm in a black pantsuit, which looks wildly out of place beside the chickens and cows. Her ankle wobbles as her high heel sinks into the mud, but that just makes her angrier.

"A bus?" she shouts so loud it sends a chicken scurrying away. "A goddamn bus!? "

"It's pretty cool, isn't it?" I say as I look up at it with a smile.

"No!" she shrieks. "What are you doing? Are you having a nervous breakdown? Are you on drugs?"

She's huffing out breaths as she stands in front of me with her fists digging into her hips. Carly could play a ball-busting lawyer on TV. Instead, she is one in real life.

"After years of work," she says as she stares at me in disbelief. "Years of studying. The money, the sweat, the tears, you're going to give it all up for this?! "

She looks at my big yellow bus in disgust.

"You're on track to have a bigger career than me, than Malcolm, than Dad . Even Mom if you're lucky. What are you doing?"

She doesn't understand. She probably never will.

Carly has that lawyer DNA running through her veins. She got it from Mom and Dad. I didn't.

"You just got made partner last summer!" she shrieks. "In the biggest law firm in New York City!"

"Yeah, and I've been miserable."

"All partners are miserable! It's part of the whole thing! That's why you get paid an obscene amount of money!"

I just stand here and let her work out her frustrated energy. Carly has always been like that. She comes in hot and you just have to wait her out until she calms down and can talk normally.

She cringes as she looks me up and down for the first time. My brown hair is in a messy bun and I'm wearing a big bulky set of overalls I found in my deceased grandfather's closet. I'm never putting on a pantsuit again.

"It's not too late," she says in a calmer voice. "I'm sure Gary will let you go back. You'll have to regain their trust, but it's doable."

"I'm not going back," I tell her in a firm tone. "I'm done."

"What about your condo?"

"I sold it."

" What?! "

Her mouth drops as she stares at me in horror. "You sold that beautiful condo, for… for this? "

The bus doesn't look like much now, but when I'm done with it, it will have all I need.

I don't know how it will turn out or where I'll end up, but I know it won't be back in New York City.

I had it all. The perfect condo with the perfect job. My clients were the who's who of the city and I was making more in a month than most people make in a year.

And I hated it.

I come from a family of lawyers. My mother is the best lawyer in Chicago. My dad is probably in the top ten. My brother is a successful lawyer in Miami and my sister is killing it in Philadelphia. Growing up, I always wanted to be a lawyer too. It was all I wanted. All I worked for.

But once I achieved that dream, I started to wonder if it was my dream, or a dream that my parents implanted in my head. During every long meeting and late night, doubt started creeping in.

I barely slept. I was never in nature. I didn't even have time to jog in Central Park.

All I did was work.

I stumbled across a girl online who had converted an old school bus into a home, or a skoolie as it's called, and traveled around, staying in the most spectacular places. Pretty soon, my feed was full of bold adventurous people like that.

I realized that watching those videos was the only time I felt happy all day long.

I told myself I'd do something like that when I retired, but then one day I looked at my bank account and realized I didn't have to wait. I could afford to do it now.

So, I quit my perfect job in the perfect city and sold my perfect condo.

My grandmother let me move in with her on her hobby farm outside of Warwick and I bought this old school bus to convert into a skoolie.

"How are you even going to convert this monstrosity?" she asks while grimacing at it.

"I'll figure it out," I say with a smile.

All I've done so far is buy the battery and electrical system, but I'm learning new things every day. Tomorrow, I'm going to start taking out the seats with my grandfather's old tools.

There's a lot to do, but I'm so excited for all of it. I've never felt so alive.

"You'll figure it out, huh?" she says with a sarcastic shrug. "Just like that. You've never even held a hammer and you're going to make a house on wheels?"

I know she's just looking out for me in her own Carly way. She just doesn't see my vision. That's okay. Maybe one day, she will.

"And where are you going to go?"

"I'll just drive," I say with a grin. I can already feel the clean mountainous air on my skin. I can hear the scratchy radio and feel the excitement of rolling into a new place and not knowing what to expect.

"Are you sure you're not on drugs?"

I laugh. She doesn't.

My family are all lawyers, so I'm used to them arguing until they win. It can go on for a while, so I kneel down with the battery pack and start fiddling with it while she continues.

"What about a boyfriend, huh, Jemma? Did you think about that? How are you ever going to meet a guy who's not busless?"

"It's not like I met anyone in New York," I tell her with a bitter taste in my mouth. "If I can't find a guy in a city of eight million people, it's hopeless anyway."

I didn't always think like that. I used to be so excited to meet ‘the one.' The perfect man who would sweep me off my feet. I thought I'd meet him in New York City, but I'm twenty-eight and he hasn't come along.

I don't care. I'm over it.

I'm starting to think that ‘the one' doesn't exist. He isn't out there. He never was.

"I'm doing this for me, Carly," I tell her. "And I'm not looking for anyone's approval. I spent my life doing things for everyone else's approval and look where it got me."

"An incredible career in the best city in the world?"

"It got me miserable. And I'm done being miserable."

Grandma comes walking out holding a tray with three glasses of lemonade on it. I've never been so happy to see her.

"Carly, I thought I saw you arrive," she says with a warm smile.

"Hi, Grandma," Carly says as she goes over and kisses her cheek. "I just came to talk some sense into my sister."

"It seems like she's finally making sense to me," Grandma says as she puts the tray down.

"You think this is a good idea?" Carly asks her in disbelief.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Grandma says. "Freedom on the open road. That beats being locked up in an air-conditioned boardroom all day."

Carly looks like she's trying really hard not to roll her eyes.

Grandma smiles at me and it gives me a boost of confidence. Carly takes after our parents, but I think I take after my grandmother. While I've been staying here the past week, I've realized we're more alike than I ever knew.

"If I was a few years younger," Grandma says, "I'd be heading out with you."

"Grandma, she's going to be taking dumps in a bus!" Carly shrieks. "What's wonderful about that?!"

She'll never understand. None of my family will.

I'm just built different than they are. It's time to embrace it instead of trying to smother it down.

Living in the mountains, bathing in streams, eating wild fruits and berries—I can't wait for it all.

It's time to get started on making my dream a reality.

"Quit your yapping and pass me that hacksaw," I say with a grin. "We have twenty-eight benches to cut out."

Carly's face goes white. "What do you mean we ?"